Visions of War
by AniMajor1
Summary: This is not really Gundam Wing. But it was because of GW. They are in here. This was a dream I had. This is exactly what happened in the dream. You're not going to forget this.


Visions of War

I was five when they took me. They stormed our school and shipped everyone off to a training camp. Our town became controlled by them and then it was deserted, because everyone was forcibly shipped off to war.

Those over 18 trained for six months and were then sent into the battlefield. Those who would turn 18 in a few years trained as much as they could before they were shipped off. 

The rest of us trained for five years. We became the elitists before some of us even turned 13.

We were brainwashed. I didn't know it at the time, though. We were made to think that anyone who opposed us was to be destroyed. We were arrogant, yes, but we had the firepower to back it up.

I never had any friends growing up. I had teammates, companions, but never any friends. We weren't allowed friends. Friends held you back and made you make emotional decisions.

I still remember every mission I went through. I remember every horrible detail. I remember everything.

My first mission was just after I turned 7. I just barely made the cut-off point.

It was me, my brother and three other elitists. Our mission was to completely decimate a town because they resisted us.

We blew up buildings and schools and homes. We killed thousands of people. I killed men, women, children, the elderly. It was all totally in cold blood. I found out later that the town wasn't uprising, it was all just to test us. I didn't care then. I was glad I'd passed their test.

Me second mission was a few weeks later. We were sent into battle, a real physical battle. It was hundreds of us against five of their elite. All during the battle they were shouting at us, coming on to our frequencies to yell threats at us. They were totally undisciplined. We didn't say anything back, because we didn't want to sound unprofessional.

We won the battle, but only because they retreated. We didn't destroy them, and we were punished for that. We were supposed to destroy them, but we had failed.

So our new goal became to destroy them. They were messing up our plans. Some of us became assassins.

The five of us were to take them out. The same five that were on my first mission. Me, my brother, and three others. We all hit our targets and killed them. 

Our army was supreme again. Our group was promoted. We became the elite elitists. We mostly kept control over our establishments. We did some diplomacy deals, not many. We were top for six years.

Until one day, the other five came back. They were faster, and much more aggressive than they were before. 

"Stay out of here!" I yelled at them, using their frequency.

And one of them answered back, but it was not one of the voices I'd heard before. These people were different. "You better move or you're going to die."

"We are soldiers. We are prepared to die. We've been prepared since they day we were born." And I showed them my face.

"Whoa, we don't kill kids."

"We are soldiers." It was my brother.

One backed off. "They're all kids," he said.

"Everyone back off." The leader said. And they backed off. They retreated.

They were cowards. We would've fought to the last man.

We met them several times. All of them ended in stalemate. We were equal.

Until Christmas day when I was 14. We fought and we lost. We came back alive, yes. But life wasn't important to a soldier. Only victory was. 

Our home was destroyed, and we finally were aware of our actions. We all knew we'd been brainwashed. There were literally hundreds of us, without families or anyone. We had no where to go. No one wanted us, we used to be the enemy. Technically we were still in the army. We never signed any release papers, we never dropped out. We were just lost, now. 

A program was set up to help us. I started my first year of school since kindergarten. The people weren't nice to me, they hated me for what I did. They understood I was brainwashed, but they didn't care. They called me names, refused to sit near me. Some of the teachers didn't like me or any of us. They had fought in the army against us. And now, they were supposed to teach us to make us respectable members of society.

And what was even worse than all the teasing and stares was the fact that we got called away in the beginning of the year. We were still in the army.

And we fought just as hard as we did before. We fought just as long. And we lost again. We were defeated on Christmas day, just like the year before. Christmas was never a happy day for us.

We returned to school in the beginning of the second semester. And it was even worse than before.

I walked to my locker with one of my acquaintances. She had kept my combination for me. She left for her first class as I was still trying to get into my locker.

I asked the people around what day it was, as our school was on a rotating schedule, but someone told me to figure it out, and no one would answer me. So I shut my locker. I realized I had locked my purse in and went to open it again. A group of boys crowded behind me, trying to memorize my combination. I hid it from them and opened it, got my purse out and made sure it was locked. They laughed and whispered "Nazi" behind my back.

I finally found my first class, history, and noticed that the seating arrangement was different. I went up to the teacher, and asked where my seat was. He didn't judge and was nice, and he told me, and said that the assignments for the last few days were on it. (I had kept up with my schooling while I was away, so I only had the assignments to do that I missed while traveling.)

I looked through the stuff I was given and found a booklet that was the translated Nazi recruiting manual. We were learning about the Nazis. I knew it was just a coincidence, but the boys at my locker were whispering "I bet she'll enjoy this lesson" as well as "She must know a lot about it." They were all intended for me to hear. I could've cried. But soldiers don't cry.


End file.
